Interconnection
By: M14Mouse
Summary: When Sam's body is unconscious, he connects with his soul. He knows the tortures his soul is experiencing and his soul finds out everything what he was doing. Prompt from khakigrrl from Oh! Sam community.
Disclaimer: Don't own them.

When Dean asked about him if he remembered hell, the answer was yes.

Every time that he was knocked unconscious, he got a first row seat to what was happening to his soul.

When Sam closed his eyes, he could see it.

The Cage

No end or beginning. No up or down. It wasn't made of metal or wood that he could tell. It was made of something much worse. Souls twisted into something indescribable. He caught glimpses of the as he fell. Colors…some muted and some so bright that his retinas burned. Their screams and moans echoed through the cage. It made his ear ring like he was inside of a bell that kept getting hit over and over again. Most of all, he didn't miss the pure ironic of this. Lucifer was surrounded by the thing that he hated the most. God must have a sense of humor.

Then he stopped falling. He didn't hit anything. He just hovered in middle air. He heard a voice whisper into his ear. It was a voice that he knew that so well.

Welcome home, Sam

More often than not, that would snap him out of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open with the brief connection with his soul. His eyes took in the darkness and flickering lights from the wall or where ever he is now. His heart pounded against his chest. The memories slowly started fading away with every breathe, with every push of oxygen into his lungs. For a brief moment, he felt fear and even that too would fade.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Neither of them couldn't figure out how Crowley got him out of the cage. Maybe, Lucifer left his body at the bottom of the cage and he grabbed it from there. Probably not. He is leaning toward Crowley making a deal. Lucifer got to play with his soul and his body got to run around topside.

That sounded like Crowley.

Soulless or not, they were glad that the bastard burned.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Sometimes, he saw Adam.

Sometimes, Adam was whole. Sometimes, he was missing body parts. That was a nice gift from Lucifer or one of his mind games. He got to meet Adam's mother, friends, and former girlfriend through the illusions. No matter how much he shouted and begged. Adam paid little attention to him. Lucifer's mind games won. Lucifer loved to make Adam scream as his latest illusion cut into him. Sometimes, Adam looked liked like Nick when Lucifer wore him for too long. That one left him confused. Dean did say that he was his true vessel. Adam was the secondary one that paid the price. But the one that hit him the most was when he appeared as a demon. Adam's cold, black eyes staring at him. He wondered if it was his imagination or did Lucifer break Adam that much.

He never did get to ask.

He couldn't really. Adam cut out of his tongue. When Lucifer and Michael were busy, Adam would crawl over to him. He felt so sorry for his brother. He had nothing to do with this. Fate was cruel enough to make him their brother. So broken…So mad. He didn't know when Adam broke…maybe…10…50…did it really matter? Once Adam did break, he knew. He knew by the laughter and the sobs. He knew madness when he saw it in his eyes. It made his heart break if Adam wasn't cutting into it.

Adam didn't like it when he talked. He said it was because he lied. No truths ever come out his mouth, he said.

"It is all you and your brother's fault."

He won't argue there.

"If only you guys had said yes, I wouldn't have been here."

Probably true. Adam had a choice as well. He could have said no to Michael but he knew that the angels offer him something. It was something so important that it made him say yes because they did it to him and Dean. Adam didn't have the pleasure of dealing with angels on every day basics like they did. He didn't understand how angels worked.

He felt sorry for him ever more.

"I can see it in your eyes. You pity me. Maybe, I should cut your eyes out."

Adam had no idea how much so.

His soul ache which in turned made his heart tighten in his chest. He tried everything to protect him much like Dean did for him. He screamed and begged for the archangels to hurt him. He taunted them. He pulled every trick in the book to get their attention and to keep it.

But sooner or later, Lucifer got bored.

Once he was done with his brother…..

Sometimes, when he woke up, he felt tears on his checks. He can't fandom why they are there.

-SPNSPNSPN-

His soul didn't like what he was doing to the Campbells, to the people they helped, and most of all, Dean. It told him in great detail.

He couldn't understand why.

He got the job done and that is all that matters.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Sometimes, he saw Michael.

His grace would burn much like his eyes did when he was out of Adam. His sheer presence would make his ears ring and bleed. His sheer rage would burn layers of his skin off. They weren't lying when they said Lucifer and Michael were opposites. Lucifer liked more of the mind games while Michael liked to do the more physical work. He liked to use his hands. Burning, cutting, and carving into his soul. He didn't care for his screams either. He always got the impression that Michael was guilty.

Michael would scream about his destiny and his father. He would beg for his father to let him out and Lucifer would laugh.

Father couldn't hear him down here.

It almost made him feel sorry for him.

Almost.

Funny thing is that he understood why Michael wanted Dean so much.

Once upon a time, Dean would follow Dad and his orders much like Michael did. He would do it without question. That was once upon a time ago. Toward the end, Dean questioned their father much like he did before he went to Stanford.

Dean refused to follow Dad's last order.

Kill him.

It is funny. Dean told him what Michael said to him about this being their destiny. Their whole lives on this notion of their destiny. It took them awhile to figure out that this suppose destiny was their choice. In end, they made their choices. Michael made his even it was in the name of his destiny.

Michael doesn't seem to get that lesson even now.

Even as his flesh peered and burned…even as Michael's sword pieced him over and over again. Michael made his choice.

He wondered what God would say if he saw him now.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Sometimes, he wondered what happened if he stayed dead.

Would the angels bring him back? Would the demons? He wondered if he would have really stayed dead if Dean didn't make the deal.
Most of the time…after everything is over and done with, his answer was no.

Angels and demons liked their games way too much to let go.

Adam didn't have what they needed.

He did.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Sometimes, he saw Michael and Lucifer together.

For days…months…possible years, they would fight each other. It looked liked two stars striking each other over and over again. He was fairly lucky because he couldn't hear them or see for very long. His eyes and ears usually bleed out by that point. He felt it. Their blows made the cage shook much like an earthquake.

Sometimes, they would talk. Okay…talking was a relative word. It was more like screaming. Some of the languages he could recall and other times, it was in languages that probably didn't exist anymore. And he thought that he and Dean had issues.

Michael and Lucifer topped theirs….big time.

But most of the time, they turned their attention to him. Lucifer with his mind games…words, thoughts, and people paraded before him. Michael would cut out his tongue and his hands. He would break bones and let him bleed forever and forever.

He remembered screaming and blacking out several times.

That never stopped them.

Once they made him whole again, they would start the cycle over again.

He wondered if God would be happy to see that his boys were finally getting along.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Sometimes, he felt his soul actually liked the things he did.

One of them was lack of sleeping. They wouldn't have to suffer together. His soul was amused slightly by his humor. He wasn't trying to be funny…really. He also got a kick out his bluntness and his honesty for one. Sometimes, he can appreciate the freedom of just speaking your mind.

It was refreshing.

Too bad Dean didn't listen about the panic room.

Both of them hated that place.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Most of the time, he saw Lucifer.

Michael was like rage. Lucifer was the opposite….he was like a slow burn. He would peer off his skin piece by piece…section by section. Once he got to the muscles then the bones, he would do it all over again. The pain was unbearable of course. He tried not to give in…not give him the pleasure. In the end, he always did. He screamed until his throat dry and hoarse or until Lucifer cut his throat. He didn't just use knives, whips, and wood. Lucifer got creative. He spent his time topside learning all sorts of new tricks.

There was acid to burn the eyes and mouth. He hated the acid. He hated the smell and the taste. How it burned down his throat or the smell of burning flesh. Sometimes, Lucifer would blow his cold breath along his skin. His skin would crack and burn. Chain saws, meat grinders, spoon, forks, and any object imaginable were used on him. There was nothing that he wouldn't use.

Lucifer liked to talk too…about nothing and everything. He spoke about his time in heaven and his fall. He spoke about his "children" and how he created them. He spoke on how he twisted the human soul…just to show his father how flawed we humans were. He also spoke of him. He didn't understand why he fought him. Why didn't just give in to him?

And he would laugh in his face.

Most often than not, it threw Lucifer into a rage.

His soul only remembered bits and pieces at that point. Vague moments of agony flashed and disappeared. He never pushed to find out more. He knew in the back of mind that he didn't want too.

When he came back into himself, Lucifer would be whispering in his ear. His sugar coated poison rolled off his tongue.

He tried not to listen but spending so many years with him…

It got to him.

The words were just another key in Lucifer's mind games. He paraded with endless of faces before him. Some faces were familiar and others were so vague that Lucifer had to remind him. He loved torture him with each and every face. He would use any means to break him.

He remembered breaking.

There were no seals when he broke. No angels to rescue him when that event happened.

And he was glad.

No angel, no demon, no damn prophecy made him do it.

This was their choice.

Neither of them disagreed on that.

-SPNSPNSPN-

Now, when he closed his eyes, he can see it.

The Wall

During his waking hours, it was solid and unbreakable. It was like an itch that he couldn't reach or an ant that is crawling on your arm and you can't get it off. He tried to ignore it with hunting, research, and annoying Dean.

When he slept at night, he can still see it. Feel it. Taste it. Hear it. Smell it. Just because a wall is up, it isn't like he doesn't remember.

Because when he slept, he has the memories of cages, walls, archangels, and long-lost brothers. When he slept, he has the memories of lost souls and soulless bodies.

When he slipped from the sleeping world of hell into the waking world, his hands scratched and clawed at the wall. He didn't want to go back into waking with a nameless panic and a scream on his lips.

He wanted to be whole.

End